You Don't Have to be so Brave
by Wings of Stars
Summary: H/Hr. Who's gonna be there when you're not strong? Is love going to be there?


A/N: This here ficcy is a lil' spur-of-the moment type thing. Any and all flames will be used to feed my fire-eating ferret. It is an H/H fic, my fave. As for this one girl who is getting on my nerves *cough* flame girl *cough* don't bother reviewing. You're just making a worse name for yourself. Okay, anyways, I own nothing at all. Well, some things, but that's not important. What's important is that anything that seems too familiar isn't mine. I hope I'm not copying anyone else's stories. If I am, I'm sorry. Anyways, on with the fic.

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Ron sat up in bed in the middle of the night after a horrible nightmare. He checked every little part of his mind for some sort of memory of it, but he couldn't seem to find any. He suddenly realized that he wasn't the only one still awake. He looked over at Harry's bed where he was still awake, though not completely.

"Harry, what are you doin' up so late?" he asked. Harry looked at him blankly.

"What? Oh, umm, just thinking," Harry replied, staring back up at the covering of his four-poster beds. 

"Awake thinking at. . ." Ron pressed the light button on his watch, "3:17? There's something seriously wrong, I think."

"And what are you doing awake," Harry asked in reply. No matter how anyone else would have taken that comment, Ron wasn't offended.

"I'm not really sure. I think I had a nightmare, but I don't remember anything."

Most guys wouldn't have told anyone for the world that they'd had a nightmare, especially at sixteen. That's something that comes with a strong friendship, the ability to share things without being worried about what the other person will think. Maybe that was because Harry didn't make fun of people. Well, Malfoy maybe.

"Hmm." Harry's mind was obviously elsewhere, and that it was. His mind, and his heart were somewhere completely different. They were resting with Hermione, wherever she was. Harry assumed that she was sleeping.

"Can't sleep?" Lavender asked, looking at the shadow by the window. That shadow was Hermione, and she just stood looking out into oblivion through the window in her own room.

"No," she sighed, but her gaze stayed where it was. Lavender could only guess what she was thinking of. Even in the dark of the room, she could almost see that half-dreamy, half-longing expression that she got when she thought of him.

"Why don't you just say something to him?" Lavender asked, truly concerned. This was when infatuation wasn't healthy. About 3:30 in the morning, and her friend was awake thinking of a guy that she thought she couldn't get. Lavender always thought that Hermione underestimated how wonderful she really was.

"Because, Lavender, I'm not you. I'm not the one who has had the easy time with guys since who knows when. I'm just me. . ." Hermione said, sighing once again. _-She just doesn't understand what it's like to be unpopular-_.

"Hermi, that's not true. Besides, what about Viktor?"

"What about Viktor? It seems that the guy _I_ want will never like _me_," Hermione said frustratedly. She walked away from the window and let her gaze travel to Lavender. She suddenly found herself wishing she was someone that she wasn't. Someone more like Lavender. . . "What are you doing up, anyway?" 

"Talking to you. Seriously, I had a nightmare or something. I can't remember anything about it now," she thought, quite puzzled. "Anyways, the important thing is that you aren't getting enough sleep, and I've actually gotten some. You just need to lie down and think of something OTHER than him. All right?"

Hermione nodded, and Lavender barely saw it in the piercing dark. The Hermione-shadow walked over to her bed, and laid down in it. She stared through scarlet hangings and onto the stars in her mind, and lost herself in the peace of it all. 

The next morning, Hermione awoke as Lavender shook her vigorously. Hermione rolled over in bed and groaned. "What do you want?"

"Well, let's see, I'd like to see you EAT something before class starts in twenty minutes," Lavender said half-calmly, taking a step backward and placing her hands on her hips.

"Oh dear!" Hermione exclaimed tiredly and began to get ready. She dashed down the stairs to the Great Hall, and grabbed a piece of toast before running to class.

Harry barely glanced up when Hermione hurriedly sat down next to him in Transfiguration. She put her head on the table and groaned, complaining about something under her breath. Harry looked at her with a puzzled expression.

"Is something the matter?" he asked.

"I woke up twenty minutes ago," she said groggily and sat up. She looked around the room at everyone being disruptive. "That's weird. Where's Professor McGonagall?"

Harry looked around the room, and Professor McGonagall was nowhere to be found. "Where did she go?" He turned and looked at Ron who was talking worriedly with Lavender. He couldn't see Ron's face, but Lavender looked as if she were going to faint or be sick.

"What's wrong, Lavender? Ron?" Harry asked. Hermione's head snapped over to where Ron and Lavender were sitting.

"Umm, Harry, I think I know what's happened to Professor McGonagall. . ." Ron was also white, and seemed to be reluctant to tell them anything. He was looking Harry straight in the face, with very serious eyes. "Well, last night, Lavender and I had the same dream, and we think that it might be true."

Lavender looked down at her feet. "You-Know-Who is here, and he's going to do something very bad to the teachers and Professor Dumbledore if you don't fight him," Lavender bit her lip and saw Hermione fight the tears that were inevitably coming.

"No, Harry, you can't! You can't expect to win against him. You can't!" She was visibly battling against the urge to throw herself into his arms and cry, and cry. She looked almost hopeless, and the glittering in her eyes seemed to have dulled to nothing but gleaming tears.

"Better just lose me than all of them, though," Harry said thoughtfully, although his insides were beginning to shake with an insuppressible fear. He looked back to Lavender, who was clutching to Ron's arm. "So, where are they?"

"There's the problem," Ron began.

"We don't exactly know," Lavender bit her lower lip again.

"Don't you have any idea?"

"None. . ."

Just then, a first year came bursting into the room and shouted excitedly. "Hey, everyone look at this!"

Hermione and Harry looked at each other and followed the crowd of excited and anxious students out to the hall. They kept following for a while until they were in the Grand Hall. Every student in the entire school seemed to be crowding in. On the walls, in big, red, dripping letters a message was spelled out.

IN THE DARK AND IN THE COLD,

WHERE MYSTERY IS HUNG,

WHERE THE CRY OF LONELINESS

AND SONG OF DANGER SUNG.

"I don't think I like the sound of that. . . ." Harry said, turning around in place.

"I know I don't. Are you sure you want to do this, Harry?" she turned around and looked him in the eyes. There was a tense moment that seemed to be shrouded in a half-painful silence. Hermione had that longing look in her eyes again, but Harry didn't notice.

"Yes, I do. I need to. You need Professor Dumbledore and the teachers more than you need me, I can assure you of that," Harry said, a lot more calmly than he felt. His heart was pounding, and his head was spinning. Should he tell her? 

_'No I don't. I need you. . .' _ Hermione thought, pushing back the dark and depressing images that were beginning to fill her mind. She kept looking at him wordlessly. Everyone in the Hall was sitting down at their tables, expecting to be told something by the teachers.

"Harry do you think we should. . . ." Hermione's voice was cut off by the slamming of the doors. The image on the enchanted ceiling seemed to quiver and shake with every moment, and presently the condition of the sky outside was as mysterious as the feeling inside. 

Harry felt Hermione's fingernails dig into his arm. He turned and stared at her. As if he had said something, she dropped her hand, but kept the worried look upon her face. Harry had honestly felt more reassured when she was touching him. Everyone seemed aware of a presence they couldn't see, and the atmosphere became more panicked.

"I don't like it in here. . . something's not right," Harry said, walking over to the doors, and trying his luck at trying to pull them open. He was in the greatest disbelief that something like this was happening.

Hermione heard Harry suck air quickly through his teeth in pain, and just barely saw his hand go up to his scar when the candles all went out. She rushed over to him, her heart beating wildly, thinking she was being too obvious.

"Harry, are you alright?" She said concernedly, following his arm up to his forehead with her own hand. She ran her fingers over the scar, which felt very normal to her. Hermione was panicking, and became even more worried as the seconds went by with no answer from Harry.

"I. . . need to get out of here, now. Voldemort. . . I mean, You-Know-Who is here, I know it."

Hermione had flinched out of habit at the sound of his name, but she was more afraid for Harry than she was of anyone or anything else at that particular moment. "But you don't know where to go, you don't know where they are. We haven't solved his little riddle yet," she tried to keep him from going. She knew he couldn't make it, what with hurting and everything.

"Don't you see? He's putting a timer on my life. I can lengthen it, or I can stay and die. If I don't solve that riddle in time, he's going to kill me and every one of you. On the other hand, if I leave, he chases me, I get killed anyway, but the rest of you are safe."

He felt her body jerk a little, but he wasn't sure what it was from. Only when her hand left his arm did he realize that she was crying.

"Oh, Herm. Don't cry. . ." he tried to calm her down, but it wasn't very easy. People were rushing everywhere around them, and they seemed to be the only ones standing still.

"I'll help you solve the riddle, then," her voice was broken and sobs escaped more than once from her throat. Harry grabbed her wrist and sat her down in an empty chair.

"I think I have it. . ." she said, breaking the terrifying silence that had fallen over them.

"Oh, Granger. I was wondering who that was. Anyways, what's the deal?" they heard Malfoy's voice come from beside them.

"You-Know-Who's back," Hermione explained shortly, her voice threatening to break once again. Malfoy had been a lot nicer to them ever since his parents had been found under the service of the Dark Lord. "I think it's the forest. It sounds so mysterious. . ."

"Whatever you think, Hermione. I trust you," Harry said, looking at her, although he couldn't see her in the pitch black. "But now about the problem of getting out of here. . ."

"I can help you with that. Do you have a hair pin on you, Hermi?" Malfoy asked casually.

"No, sorry."

"That's alright. I'm sure Pansy here has got one," Harry could barely see Malfoy lean over and take a pin from Pansy's hair.

"Hey, what was that?" Pansy asked suspiciously, putting her hand up to her hair.

"Not a bright one, is she? Anyhow, now the part of getting to the door without trampling someone or getting trampled ourselves. Here goes. . ." He walked straight toward the door, followed by Harry and Hermione who all tripped over at least four people by the time they had reached the door. Malfoy shoved some first and second years out of the way, and bent down and fiddled with the handle.

"Mmm, there you go!" he said as the door clicked. Harry left the room, but the door closed heavily before Hermione could get out.

"Hermione! I have to go, with or without you!" he shouted through the door, although his heart was threatening to beat out of his chest painfully as he said the words.

"I understand," she half-yelled back, just loud enough for Harry to hear her. Her own emotions were running wildly through her body, and she wanted to knock down the door with her own fists. 

Harry ran outside into the drowsy-looking and damp morning. Hadn't it been just the night before that he had laid awake thinking about her? Thinking about the girl he was having to leave behind now. The girl he was protecting by leaving. He knew that even if he had told her, she'd always be in danger, and always caught up in the moments (good or bad) of publicity and fame.

Inside, Hermione turned and caught Malfoy by the arm just as he turned away. In the semi-darkness of the hall that was lit by scattered wand-light she could see the confusion etched on his face. "Can you do me one last little favor?"

Harry didn't want to run. He didn't want to have to go face what was in that forest. He was frightened near to death by what could be lurking in the shadows of the Forbidden Forest. Now of all times, he did not want to break a school rule by going into that forest.

He had barely reached the edge, and was about to step into whatever danger could be dwelling in there, when he heard someone shouting his name. He turned and looked back, telling himself that he was dreaming. But there she was. Hermione was running toward him as fast as her legs could carry her, and she was shouting his name.

"Harry, wait! You have to take me with you! You can't do it alone!"

He was filled with an overpowering happiness at the sight of her, but his senses came to him quickly enough.

"You can't come with me. You'll be in more danger than me!" Harry was truly concerned, and she could see it.

"I'm coming with you, and you can't stop me," she said defiantly. He sighed, giving up any hope of getting her to stay.

"Well, come on then," he said and led her into the forest.

They were unpleasantly, tensely silent for a long while. Neither knew what there was left to say. The forest seemed to be growing thicker with every onward step that was taken. They were both thinking of telling the other, or wishing for the strength and courage to get it out.

"You don't have to be so brave," Hermione said suddenly, after she'd had too much of the unbearably loud silence. Harry turned around and looked at her with a bewildered expression. "If you're afraid, you don't have to pretend, I won't think any worse of you for it."

"I'm not pretending," he defended, but he could feel all of his thin facades fall from him as Hermione looked at him. There in the forest, in the middle of a mystery and adventure far too big for him to keep to just himself, he realized that she wouldn't think any worse of him for anything he did. He'd been so childish before, and Hermione may have scolded him, but she was just acting mother because she was concerned. "I never said I wasn't afraid."

"But you never said you were, either," Hermione said, taking one more step toward him, her eyes still focused intently on his. "You can be completely honest with me," she whispered, feeling very vulnerable under his gaze. "And I haven't told you everything. Harry, I. . ."

He pressed his index finger to her lips. "Words are words, and there's plenty of time for them to be said," he said, although he felt extremely giddy that she could have been saying the things he'd been thinking about her for so very long. 

He turned and continued walking through the denseness of the darkening forest. It was still midmorning, but the forest was becoming even darker as they ventured farther and farther into it. Hermione followed him silently, wondering if she'd ever have the courage to tell him. She wasn't sincerely going to tell him back there, was she?

Meanwhile, Harry's thoughts were completely elsewhere. He was worried, what if Hermione got hurt because she was following him? He felt as though he had to be completely responsible for whatever happened to Hermione. This was his fight, his burden, his alone. And yet. . . and yet. . . there she was. He glanced back to look at her again, and she just smiled.

A few minutes later, Harry couldn't hear Hermione echoing the rustle of leaves from behind him. He turned around and sure enough, she wasn't there. He became panicked, and all he could hear was his own calls: "Hermione! Hermione! Where are you? Please answer me, Hermione!"

Hermione stood in a clear part of the woods, frightened. She could see the sun steadily begin to rise up into the dark morning sky. She was so frightened that she didn't even notice when rain began to beat down upon her unprotected body. She didn't have her cloak with her, and she could think of nothing but how to find Harry.

Things were seemingly hopeless, and she circled in place as she felt a pair of eyes almost staring directly through her. She felt weak, helpless, and vulnerable. She found her voice to shout: "Harry!" Through the bushes she could hear a rustling. "Who's there?"

Out of the darkness, a magnificent creature sprang in front of her. It was followed by an exhilarated-looking centaur. Hermione stood gaping at the unicorn in front of her. The young unicorn brushed it's nose against her hand.

The centaur smiled. "She seemed to be watching something. My name is Firenze, who are you?" he said, a little curious at why any human would be in the forest.

Hermione turned her head and watched longingly as the unicorn sprinted away. "My name is Hermione. Have you seen any other humans in this forest? I'm looking for my friend. His name is Harry Potter."

Firenze grinned at the thought of seeing him again. "Climb on."

"No, I couldn't really. I couldn't," Hermione refused, shaking her head.

"All right."

Harry tried to walk back to where he and Hermione had lost each other, but seemed to only be going in endless circles. It was noon, his watch told him. He had six hours to get the teachers, Hermione, and get out of the forest. If there was one place he didn't want to be in the dark, it was the Forbidden Forest.

He sighed, frustrated, but kept walking. He'd been walking for three long hours already, and it had been almost two and a half since he'd lost Hermione. He wished more than anything for her to be right there with him.

Suddenly, his thoughts were completely wiped away by a searing pain in his scar. The pain that he'd had when he was in the Great Hall had gone hours ago, but he found himself doubled over in pain. He put his hand to his forehead and almost screamed out in pain, but thought better of it. Voldemort had to be somewhere near, right? 

"How did this happen?" Harry asked hopelessly, sitting down and rubbing his scar.

"It didn't happen because of you, Harry. There are some things that you just can't control." Harry could almost hear Professor Dumbledore's voice.

"Yeah, Dumbledore would know what do. . ."

"I don't, but I know that you can make anything happen."

Now the voices in his head were answering. Harry thought he was crazy. As long as he was crazy. . . he turned around and looked where the sound was coming from.

There, in the twig-strewn ground were what looked like prison bars, and below ground Professor Dumbledore stood looking up at him. Dumbledore looked odd, standing amongst the brown dampness that was underground. He stood out, almost shining against the blackness, and the hopelessness that Harry felt.

"Professor Dumbledore! Where are the other teachers?" Harry questioned, relieved to see someone he could put his trust into.

"They're all in here. Harry, listen, you know what you have to do. I don't, but I know that somewhere in your heart, you know what you have to do," his voice was calm and reassuring. Harry felt a little better that he could be so calm.

Thoughts were racing wildly and untamed through Harry's mind. What was it, exactly, that he had to do? Did it have anything to do with Hermione? Where was she?

Somewhere, not far off, Harry heard a very familiar, very shrill scream. It was Hermione. She was screaming his name now, and he felt like he had to do something about it. Harry turned back around to face Dumbledore.

"I'll. . . just. . ." he pulled at the bars with no effect. He was so very concentrated on getting the bars out that he didn't hear the sound of hooves run up behind him. An arm reached down and, they began to pull together. Harry's arms felt as though they were going to fall limp at any moment.

As they were still pulling, Harry looked up at the gracious hero who happened to be. . .

"Firenze?" He asked in disbelief, causing him to be preoccupied. When the bars came out, Harry fell backwards, and Firenze smiled at him.

"Yes, it's me. I'll take you to her, I know which way he took her. Come," Firenze ordered. 

Harry was glad that he didn't offer him a ride, because Harry had adrenaline rushing through every part of his body and running made him feel somewhat better. This was it, he kept telling himself, if you don't get through this one, you won't get out of any other battles with Voldemort. And he knew, it was time enough that this be over.

They ran for what seemed like hours, and the anticipation grew in Harry. He didn't know what to expect. What if he was too late to save her?

Hermione didn't know if she could stand it any longer. She was helpless, almost. She knew very well that if she moved or cried or did anything You-Know-Who wouldn't have a hard time killing her. Painfully or non-painfully, she didn't care. There was so much that had been left unsaid, undone. She had her whole life in front of her, or did she? Her entire life could be lived within the next few minutes, and that would be it, game over for her, when she was still so young.

She heard footsteps, and she wanted desperately to look behind her and see who it was, but she could almost feel the Dark Lord's wand poking her in the back, taunting her with the promise of death. The sun would be setting, she thought. She could only tell because the forest was turning a slight shade of deep orange and pink. _"Oh, hurry! Get it done with, it's not safe here!_" she thought with a desperation beginning to swell inside her heart.

Hours and hours had passed, and Voldemort was still very pleased with himself. Harry Potter was running straight into his trap, and all because of a silly little girl. _"A mudblood at that!"_

Harry had long since been exhausted and was riding on Firenze, after much coaxing on Firenze's part. They seemed to be lost, and Firenze was confused. He'd never been lost in the forest before, and he felt useless.

"Firenze," Harry said after a long while of thought. "They went this way, right?" Harry said, pointing south. He was hoping that his thinking was right.

"Yes, but you can't go alone. You'll get lost!" Firenze objected as Harry clambered off of his back.

"I can't take anyone with me. Voldemort's got a spell on the forest that will repel everyone but me from where he is. I have to fight him alone," Harry said with a conviction.

"Well, then, Harry Potter. Good luck, and I hope I see you again, someday," Firenze said.

"You will, I promise," Harry replied with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes as he turned and walked into the thickest part of the forest. He looked a lot braver than he felt, and his insides were shaking with a furious terror.

His mind became a whirlwind of mixed thoughts and emotions as he entered a small, semi-dark clearing. Hermione had her back turned and was sitting at the very edge of the clearing, her head resting on her knees.

"It's about time, don't you think?" Voldemort said cynically with a deep, evil laugh. Harry saw Hermione curl more tightly and squeeze he knees to her chest as he laughed. Harry had a sudden urge to go over and hold her, to try and make all of her pain go away.

Harry gripped his wand more tightly in his hand, and he felt his body drain of almost all of the fear he had once felt before. He knew, in his mind, that he didn't stand a chance by himself. But he wasn't consciously aware of what his head was saying.

His heart was speaking now.

Harry had barely had time to think of what to do when Voldemort uttered the first word. _"Expelliarmus!"_ and Harry's wand had flown away from his hands. He went flying back several feet and crashed hard into a tree. Harry felt like letting go, giving up, backing away. The pain down his spine and in the back of his head was immense. He ached with every fiber of his being already, and it hadn't been a minute since he'd found Hermione.

Hermione. . . that was who he'd do it for. He found his strength and got to his feet, thinking all the time of the only thing that mattered now: Hermione.

He ran for his wand but Voldemort sent him flying into yet another tree. He felt his side rip open with a pain that was so sharp that it almost took his breath away completely. But one thought, one scream kept him from giving up. Hermione.

This was his chance to make everything up to her. She'd always been there for him, and helped him all the time. He remembered everything suddenly. He knew she'd never ask him to do anything. Poor Hermione had been through so much when Harry had just met her. The only way they had become friends was because of a troll finding it's way into the girl's bathroom.

"Hermione!" he shouted. He had a plan, and he mouthed some words to her while Voldemort wasn't being particularly sharp about looking after him. Harry snatched up his wand, but Voldemort turned around just in time to see it. He sent Harry flying into another tree and his wand landed at Hermione's feet.

Hermione picked it up quickly and threw it as hard as she could over to the still-recovering Harry, who was just picking himself up after his third fatal blow. Blood was gushing everywhere and Hermione felt the need to both be sick and cry. She had thrown too far, and Harry had to run about five feet to get it.

Voldemort smashed him into another tree, but the wand didn't slide out of his hand. Harry nodded over at Hermione.

Under his breath, he counted. One. . . Two. . . . Three!

"Avada Kedavra!" their voices rang out as one and, both wands pointed at Voldemort, there was a green flash of light and Voldemort fell.

Hermione ran to Harry and threw herself into his arms. Night had fallen and she was very afraid. "Harry, do you think we did the right thing? Do you think we're going to Azkaban for that?" she asked worriedly, letting the tears pour from her eyes.

Harry didn't know how to react to this. He just stood her up straight, although very painfully. Her eyes traveled to the cut on his side that was gushing blood. The red sticky mess had found it's way onto her arm. Without a word, she bent and tore the bottom of her robe off and wrapped it tightly around him.

"This will have to do for now. We need to hurry and make it out of here. . . Go ahead, lean on me," she said expectantly as they began to walk. He didn't feel so very manly walking away, leaning on Hermione. 

As they walked away from the scene of the fight, they caught a glimpse of Cornelius Fudge and Professor Dumbledore walking toward it. When he saw them, Harry tried to stand up straight.

Once they were out of earshot, Hermione stopped and looked at him. "You don't have to be so brave."

"I don't feel brave," Harry said, leaning more heavily on Hermione. She almost fell under his weight.

"You may not feel it, but you're acting it," she looked up at him with her sincere eyes and they didn't talk anymore. They didn't need words at that moment, they were just soaking up the minutes of bliss being in each others arms. Then there was that nagging feeling at the back of each of their minds: what would happen to them after this?

Harry felt weak, as though darkness were going to close in around him at any given moment, and Hermione felt dirty. She'd killed a person. Even if it was Voldemort, the most evil wizard to ever have roamed the face of this earth.

Emerging from the forest felt as though a brick had been taken off of their chests, and they weren't so very cautious anymore. The walk seemed long and treacherous, but they could finally see the light at the end of the tunnel begin to shine with a brilliance they hadn't known for a very long time, or so it seemed.

Walking into the doors, soaking and freezing, they walked up through a crowd of amazed students. Collin and Dennis Creevey looked as if they were going to explode with admiration. Ron followed them up the stairs and into the hospital wing.

Madam Pomfrey look as if she had been expecting them both to come back horribly mangled. Well, she had. Hermione helped Harry lay down on one of the beds before sitting on one next to it herself. She watched as Madam Pomfrey went about healing Harry's side with a sort of green gooey gel.

Harry just lay there, staring up at the ceiling, or was he staring?

"If he wakes up, tell him he can go," she said before turning and leaving. That wasn't like her. She usually would've loved to heal up all of Hermione's tiny little scratches, but she just left. Hermione was still puzzling over this when Professor Dumbledore, Cornelius Fudge, and Ron came walking in. Professor Dumbledore handed her a fresh robe and left one at the foot of the bed.

"You two did a brave thing," Professor Dumbledore said as Hermione pulled the curtain around to change. Hermione was silent. "No, Hermione, you're not going to Azkaban for it. You and Harry are heros."

Hermione pulled the curtain open and sighed. "Harry is the hero, sir. Not me. I just got in the way," she said, looking at her feet.

Cornelius Fudge took his turn at speaking. "That's not true, Miss Granger. Harry wouldn't have been able to perform that spell all by himself."

"Hermione, admit it, you're a hero, too. Well, heroine," Ron insisted.

"But I had Draco blast away that wall, and that will cost loads to fix!"

"You had him do that because you were concerned for the safety of your fellow students. You're a wonderful thinker, Miss Granger. They were an easy target. And had it not been for you, I'm sure that Voldemort would have attacked them anyway," Dumbledore assured her. "I'll let you alone with your friends for now. You must be very tired."

"So. . . what was it like?" Ron asked. Hermione knew he'd always wanted to be the hero of something, and his two best friends were the ones who stole the part. He was taking this very well.

"Ron, you know what it's like. You are a hero, too. You're the one who's always been there for Harry, and now me, when we're at the point of our weakness," tears began to well up in her eyes, as she realized, for the very first time, exactly how wonderful her friends were to her.

They talked for a short while before Ron went of to bed, leaving Harry and Hermione alone. She sat and looked at him for a long time, just thinking of what she'd say if he did happen to wake up any time in the near future. 

She figured that it would have to wait until morning, because it was already midnight, and she was tired. She walked out into the half-dark hall and lit her wand: "Lumos!" She was about to walk away when she felt a presence behind her. She almost turned around but was stopped by a pair of hands grabbing her arms.

"Hermione. . . there's something I need to tell you. . . " Harry started feeling completely nervous. Hermione turned around, leaving Harry's hands to drop. She looked up at him, her eyes glittering fiercely.

"Words are words, and there are plenty of time for them to be said."

"Maybe there are, and maybe words will mean nothing, but I'm not going to wait. Hermione. . ." he whispered the last word, and she felt her arms in his hands again. There was a tense moment, like the one they had experienced earlier that day.

"Harry, I think, or I know. . . I love you," she said, breaking the silence that seemed to be looming around them.

"You don't have to be so brave," he said and smiled at her. He leaned over and their lips met in a pure, sweet, innocent kiss.

* * * *

My first fic with a plot! Anyways, leave me a review, not a flame. I'm actually already aware of the things I need to improve. Well, thank you for reading it. I appreciate that I'm worth the effort. Have a wonderful day!

  
  
  
  
  
  



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